


Nightmare

by DuaeCat



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Eldritch, F/M, Implied/Referenced Incest, Mortis (Star Wars), Multi, Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 04:20:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15134960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DuaeCat/pseuds/DuaeCat
Summary: Once you enter Mortis you're lost forever.





	Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Merfilly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/gifts).



“Master.” The words were soft, almost dreamy, and Anakin knew who she belonged to before he even turned to look. Even in the sunlight Ahsoka’s white markings on her lekku and face faintly glowed as if lit with inner light and her eyes had taken on a green tint edging them to teal. 

“Ahsoka,” Anakin replied, holding out his arms for her despite himself. He wouldn’t call her Snips, not like this. She came to him eagerly, pressing her body against his and tilting her face up for a kiss. 

Anakin wasn’t sure how long they’d been on Mortis, months, years, decades, or if time even existed properly anymore. He hadn’t seen Obi-Wan in ages and he wondered, sometimes, if he was still there. Had they grown tired of him? Had he ever existed there at all? It was hard to remember, hard to think what might be real. Or as real as things ever got anymore. 

This felt real enough, Ahsoka’s warmth under his hand and her lips soft, fangs blunted against his tongue. He wondered what had happened, how the Daughter had claimed her again. Not that it mattered, but curiosity was sometimes the only thing that kept him sane. 

For a time he’d truly believed he could escape, that the danger they faced was real, and that what they did mattered. It had taken far too long to realize the truth. They had been caught in some sort of trap, pulled in by forces he couldn’t hope to comprehend, and now they were puppets in an endless series of plays. He’d killed the Son a dozen times, unraveling his plots and triumphing against his evil. He’d been killed more times than he could remember, exactly. 

Sometimes when he found Ahsoka, or she found him, she was too sharp. Yellow eyes and dark veins tainting her skin, fangs that made him bleed. More than once she’d ripped out his throat like that, with her bare teeth. More than once he’d been forced to kill her and even knowing that she’d come back it ripped him apart every time. They’re part of this place now, and even if one of the two doesn’t force life back into them, they’re reborn with the dawn the same as everything else in this cursed place. 

Sometimes he was the Son’s, everything drowned out by rage and hate and pain as he made her  _ hurt _ for him. Sometimes he was the Daughter’s, everything drowned out in a lassitude that felt like being drugged. 

Sometimes, very rarely they were both themselves and that was the hardest of all. 

At least like this he could touch her, know she felt the same sort of peaceful nothingness he always felt when he was the Daughter’s. He didn’t have to hate her, to hurt her for him, to love her in a way that would make him willing to set the universe afire to make her feel something. He thinks sometimes if things were different he could pity them. 

As it is he looks into green-tainted eyes that don’t quite see him and he whispers her name and wonders who they’ll be tomorrow. 


End file.
